


day eleven

by julek



Series: Winterfest 2020 [11]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Favourite Sweaters, Fluff, M/M, The Wolves Of Kaer Morhen, Winter At Kaer Morhen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28018458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julek/pseuds/julek
Summary: At Kaer Morhen, the wolves slip out of their armors and wear something much more comfortable.
Relationships: Eskel & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Winterfest 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041318
Comments: 6
Kudos: 151





	day eleven

The morning after they reach the keep, after Jaskier’s slept soundly for what feels like an eternity, he’s greeted with a wonderful scene as he sleepily pads into the kitchen.

The wolves are all sitting at the table, sharing bowls of fruit and oatmeal and mugs of steaming tea. Eskel’s stirring sugar into his cup, as Lambert and Geralt halfheartedly wrestle for the perfect slice of bread. Vesemir sits at the end, seemingly unbothered by his surroundings as he annotates the margins of an old manuscript. It’s all fairly normal —he’s only known them for a day, but he feels like this is what routine must be to them— except for the fact that they’ve traded their regular gambesons and jerkins for something much more comfortable: thick, cableknit woolen sweaters.

Eskel’s is a lovely shade of oxblood, with far too long sleeves that fall over his hands. It looks soft and worn, some threads at the collar already coming loose around his neck. Geralt’s has a remarkable tint to it, a deep mustard color that makes his eyes look softer, and it’s the most color Jaskier’s ever seen him wear, apart from the occasional doublet Jaskier slips him in. It looks brand new, and the fine golden thread that dances around the seams is perfectly sewn, looking almost custom made. The younger wolf is wearing green — rich, earthy green that reminds Jaskier of pines and forest trails. This one’s fuzzier and looks incredibly inviting and warm, and it’s the perfect frame to the medallions that hang around Lambert’s neck, the wolf and the cat laying side by side against the dark fabric. 

Jaskier stands in the hallway, transfixed. They look like a family, he realizes as he watches Eskel playfully hit the back of Lambert’s head with a spoon, just in time for Geralt to steal the bread from his plate. They’re warm and content and at home, no monsters or contracts looming around the corner, no spiteful humans waiting for them to misstep — no, here they’re able to just be. 

“Your bard may have a lot of talents, but subtlety’s not his thing.”

Coming out of his daydream, Jaskier hears Lambert laughing as Geralt hits his shoulder, shaking his head with a smirk. He beckons Jaskier with one arm, inviting him to sit on the bench with them, a plate already set out for him.

“Good morning,” he says, then whispers against Geralt’s neck, “morning.”

Geralt presses a kiss to his cheek and passes him a mug. 

“What were you staring at, bard?” Lambert says, not unkindly.

Jaskier smiles, breaking the bread in half. “Just admiring your sweaters, dear.”

Lamber chokes into his tea, and Eskel’s cheeks turn a shade darker, almost blending in with his jumper. 

“Where did you get them? The fabric’s really good, and the sewing looks stunning— must have been done by a professional, I’m sure.”

Geralt coughs into his elbow. Eskel’s blush darkens.

“I, uh,” Eskel starts, then pauses to take a drink of his tea, which is still boiling hot. “I made them.”

Jaskier’s mouth falls open in disbelief. “You did?”

He watches as Eskel rubs his cheek, the scarred one, and looks away, squirming in his seat.

“Yeah,” he admits sheepishly. “I like to knit over the winter, when snow covers the pass. Helps kill some time.”

“Oh, that’s lovely!” Jaskier beams, his eyes glinting with joy, and his fingers find the sleeve of Geralt’s sweater. “You’re really talented, these look incredible. I’m— I’d certainly love to wear one, if you’re taking requests.”

Eskel’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’d wear one? I mean, your clothes are so fine and expensive...”

Jaskier frowns. “Of course, I’d be honored! Not even Novigrad’s finest silks would compare to something of this quality,” he tugs on Geralt’s sleeve for good measure, almost making him spill his tea, “and your style is really unique, I must say. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

The room falls silent, and Jaskier fears he may have overstepped without meaning to.

“I mean it,” he says, gentler this time. “But you don’t have to.”

Eskel’s shoulders relax, and he smiles, a genuine one this time. “Okay. I can get your measurements tonight, if that’s alright with you.”

Jaskier grins, resting his head on Geralt’s shoulder. “That sounds perfect.”

“You’ll be one of our pack,” Geralt murmurs, resting his head against Jaskier’s, and warmth blooms in his chest.

He likes the sound of that already. 

**Author's Note:**

> follow this series on [tumblr](http://julek.tumblr.com/tagged/winter%20prompts)!


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